Critical Role: Elsewhere in Tal'Dorei
by JuanForastero
Summary: While Vox Machina are following their destiny, what are the stories of other people and other places in Tal'Dorei?
1. Elsewhere in Tal'Dorei - Prologue

Elsewhere in Tal'Dorei

Prologue

 _Sharpe's Party_

It was mid-day (or so the height of the sun would seem to indicate). On a hillock, a figure wearing leather armor stood studying the ground in the distance.

"Where are we, Sharpe?" a pale, giant of a man asked from his position sitting on the ground.

The armored warrior turned from his watch and walked to a small fire. He picked up a copper mug and dipped it into the cauldron warming over the fire. He stood and sipped at a dark, steaming liquid.

"The Feywild," Sharpe said.

"Does it look safe?" the big man inquired.

A tiny, dark haired dwarven boy was busy picking up the huge man's possessions lying around the camp fire. At best, the boy was simply moving or knocking over things.

"Of course it doesn't look safe, Krutos!" Sharpe replied. There was a deeply sarcastic tone in his voice.

"Very dangerous!" added a wizard in grey robes.

"You have heard of this place, Brion?" asked a rotund, bearded man. Next to him a horse stood still with her head drooped towards the ground.

"Oh yes! Very strong with magic, fairies, strange creatures…" the wizard continued to describe the Feywild.

The warrior turned to a woman poking at the fire. She was older, stout, wearing leather pants and breastplate over a loose shirt.

"Carruhlia, how much food do we have?" Sharpe asked.

"Oh, ten days," she said.

"Good! That's more than enough to get us back to the nearest hamlet."

The warrior started to turn away from the fire, but the huge man began to stir himself.

"We're not continuing?" Krutos asked.

Sharpe looked at Krutos, ambling towards him. "The hairless giant wants to continue on! I'm sorry I'm not full of patience at the moment: it's been a hard morning digging a hole for the pieces of a dead, foul-tempered dwarf woman. The last 30 days haven't been particularly full of joy and success either…

Sharpe pointed his finger at Krutos.

"You nearly incinerated yourself playing with that old lunatic's 'fire powder'. You, Elmario…" he turned to the olive skinned, rotund man, "almost get trampled to death by a werehorse."

The horse started to raise her head, but Sharpe turned quickly, pointing his finger in her direction.

"No, not now!" he cut off any protestations from the mare.

Sharpe faced a deformed creature rooting around behind the mare. "This idiot tries to steal from an Archmage, and now he has the head of a cockroach."

The creature with the body of a halfling and the head of a cockroach looked at him blankly then returned to sniffing around in horse droppings.

Sharpe faced Brion, the wizard. "You fill every camp with the lovely smell of someone urinating on a fire."

"It's a belief of my people!" Brion blurted out with a high-pitched voice.

"Brion!" the warrior cut him off. There was a wild look in his blue eyes.

"What about our employer?" Carruhlia asked.

"'Employer?' He didn't advance us any money. He can find someone else to do his job."

Sharpe walked some paces away from the rest and sat down.

Brion came and crouched next to him.

"What do you think happened to the she-dwarf?" he asked.

"Who knows? She had lots of enemies," Sharpe said.

"Do you think she was cursed?" Brion asked.

"Probably. I cursed at her many times. Only some arcane power would make a person explode like that."

"I guess that's true, Sharpe," Brion had to stifle a grin. He walked back to his blanket to sleep for the night.

"You know Sharpe. Have you seen him like this?" Carruhlia whispered to Krutos.

The huge man was still lounging on his blanket by the fire.

"From time to time. I think he's probably right: there's no point going on," Krutos said.

(Days Later)

The party gingerly stepped on stones across a small running stream. Straw thatched roofs were visible nearby. It was the last hamlet they passed on their way to the Feywild. Just a few farmers' cottages and a gathering area behind the head man's house.

"At least there are no water snakes in the stream!" Elmario said.

"That's the last thing we need," Sharpe quipped. They had passed no one on the path back from the Feywild and encountered nothing of interest.

At this hour, the farmers were out in the fields working. The party made their way to the village gathering point where a few benches and a small table were sitting under an awning made of logs and pine branches. Sharpe sat astride a rough wooden bench. He had the bag of party funds in front of him and began counting out shares into different piles.

"Are you setting aside a share for the dwarf?" Elmario asked.

Sharpe looked up. "Do you know who her people are or where she came from?"

Elmario shrugged.

"No, I'm not figuring a share for her."

"How about Jeyloaf?" Elmario ventured.

"Your werehorse lady that you've known for a week? No."

"She's not an agreed member of the party anyway!" Brion said.

The piles of money were pretty small.

"Ok, gather round!" Sharpe said loudly. "Starting with Brion, everyone come up and take the share of your choice."

If he didn't let Brion go first, they would be arguing about the choice all day. Brion looked over the piles, which were stacked neatly and easily counted. Sharpe had made no mistake in dividing up the spoils. Brion grabbed up a pile he judged to be mostly gold. The rest seemed to have more silver.

"What about the loot?" Brion asked.

"You were with us the whole time. What loot do we have besides this money!?" Sharpe replied. Brion shuffled off looking at his handful of coins.

Sharpe waved for Toburd to come forward. "Your takings for being camp boy."

The dwarf held out his money bag. Sharpe let coins cascade into it. Brion heard the sound and looked. Toburd's pay was all in copper pieces. Not that much at all.

Sharpe picked up a share and put it in the money bag hanging from the halfling's belt. He wondered if the spell that gave the thief a cockroach's head would wear off eventually.

"Safe journeys!" Brion said formally. He turn on his heel and began walking down the path south.

Sharpe watched Elmario and the mare wander from house to house in the village. The bard seemed to have the intention of staying in the village for the night.

"Krutos, what will you do now?" Sharpe asked.

The large man scratched his cheek. "I know an old man named Flazier. He owns a farm well to the south of here. I may see how he's doing."

"I'm thinking of visiting Emon. See if there's a money making opportunity there. I'll try to stop by and visit you soon," Sharpe said.

Carruhlia walked up to Krutos. "I'm going south, too. Do you mind if I travel with you and Toburd for a while?"

"You're welcome to!" Krutos said.

"Well, safe travels!" Sharpe said. He adjusted his rucksack on his back and started along the path that eventually became the high road to Emon.

Krutos and Carruhlia both thought their former leader's farewell was more sincere than the wizard's.

And with that, the party separated.


	2. Elsewhere In Tal'Dorei - Part 1

Elsewhere in Tal'Dorei

Part 1

[Critical Role SPOILERS: Episode 40 onwards]

Sharpe walked alone down a dry dirt road. It was a well traveled path, but he had seen no one for some time. The terrain slowly rose and fell in places, with stands of trees spotted around the grassland. To his estimate, he was not far from where the proper forest began.

He was deep in thought. Everything he heard the past ten days was bad news. As he walked he was considering what it all would mean for him. He was hoping to find Krutos at Flazier's farm. The big man might have some opinions on the happenings in Emon recently.

He reached the top of a small rise. In front, the trees and bushes were closer to the road. A couple tree stumps showed where someone had cut a clear space along either side. It was still a good spot for an ambush. Which is exactly what the three men on horseback waiting in the brush seemed to be planning.

The hair on the back of Sharpe's head stood on end. He made an effort to keep walking forward at the same pace with his head slightly down. In the past few days he'd found part of an old blanket, which he wore draped over his torso like a poncho. With hands partly concealed by the poncho he could easily reach for his sword.

The horsemen left their poor concealment and slowly approached Sharpe. They were armored, including helmets. Over their chests they wore white tabards with some design he couldn't see clearly. Their swords were out. One rider angled to his left, one to his right, and the middle one continued to come straight for him. Without moving his head he sized up the three. He picked the man on his left.

Sharpe sprinted as fast as he could for the horseman. It took all three marauders by surprise. He bumped into the flank of the horse and grabbed for the rider's stirrup. He heaved and the man tumbled off his unsteady mount.

He turned on the right flanking man and began screaming. Despite the rider's attempts to control the animal, it stopped in its tracks at the sound.

Sharpe charged with his sword drawn and stabbed the man's side where there should have been a gap in the armor. The man let go of the horse's reins and tried to parry the thrust. He also fell off his horse.

Sharpe heard the battlecry: 'For the Cinder King!'

He faced the last rider. This one was beating at his horse's flanks with his boots and had his sword held high. The animal was slowly walking forward.

Sharpe trotted up. The man swung down too early and completely missed his intended victim. Sharpe was able to grab the man's arm. The rider tried to pull away, but Sharpe quickly used the opportunity to thrust his sword up into the man's armpit. He screamed in pain and dropped his sword. He fell off his horse and landed in a clang of metal in the dirt.

Sharpe bent down and put the point of his sword in the gap between the man's helmet and breastplate. Blood spewed onto the ground and the man went still.

The man Sharpe first unhorsed had gotten to his feet. He was shuffling slowly toward Sharpe with his sword held in front of him.

The old soldier in shabby clothes smiled widely. "Are you sure you don't want to wait for your 'Cinder King' to come help you?"

The armored figure paused for a moment. Sharpe helpfully edge closer to the man's right side: his sword arm. The marauder charged him. His idea was to try and spear Sharpe with the outstretched sword.

When Sharpe avoided the sword point, the man tried his follow up move- to make a backhand swing. He was far too awkward. He had only a moment of pain from his crushed wrist and then he died as Sharpe followed up a strike on the man's sword hand with a thrust into the small of his back.

The only sound now was the last few noisy, wet breaths of the right-hand marauder. He went silent before Sharpe reached the body. Sharpe checked each of them to make sure they were dead. That done, he jogged into the trees. He stopped, dropped, and crawled twenty feet to a thick bush. Then he waited.

There may have been more marauders. He didn't know. There was no sound of anyone else approaching. It was best to wait and be sure.

Sharpe couldn't judge which was worse: the marauders' riding ability or their swordsmanship. It was obvious they were untrained or poorly disciplined fighters. Their hiding spot was obvious and they sprang their ambush too soon. He noticed on approach that their armor was mis-matched and didn't fit them at all. His charge had surprised them and they didn't know how to react.

Sharpe eventually felt safe that no reinforcements were on the way. He went back to the battle site. The sigil on the men's tabards was a red dragon, crudely hand drawn. He heard on his travels Thordak (the 'Cinder King' referred to by the marauder) was a red dragon ruling over the ruins of Emon.

The cloth 'tabards' over their armor were just crudely cut white cloth. Perhaps bed sheets. Sharpe stripped the dead men naked. None were carrying money or personal possessions. One of the tabards in his hand, Sharpe walked away from the bodies. He sniffed the dragon design on the cloth. It smelled like dried blood.

Sharpe turned his attention to the three horses. Their ribs were showing and they all looked fatigued. None had blankets under their saddles. He struggled to get the saddle off a chestnut gelding with a black tail. The saddle was far too tight and the animal was severely chaffed.

Sharpe finally lost his patience. He grabbed the saddle by the pommel and walked over to the three dead men. Swinging it around he angrily slammed it onto the bodies. He decided to leave the men's equipment and bodies. If they were real followers of the red dragon, they might be carrying some magic item he didn't want to have around.

"Let's all go somewhere else, horses!" he said.

(That Afternoon)

Sharpe strolled down the main street of the village with the horses behind him. Most of the houses were completely made of wood. It was no surprise so near a forest where trees were plentiful. Shutters and doors were open, letting a warm breeze air out the houses.

He stopped in front of a building that was both a home and the local alehouse. He left the horses with their heads in the common trough, drinking water. The three animals nearly inhaled handfuls of oats from his hand earlier.

Sharpe saw a brown cloaked figure turn the corner. Hunched over and shuffling, the old woman was carrying an egg basket. As she approached, he recognized Carruhlia's blonde and grey hair.

"Sharpe!" she greeted him.

The warrior was curious about her old woman act. "What's going on here?"

"I've money to make at the alehouse. I've been hoping to see a person I know! Do you want to help me with something?"

"What is it?" he asked.

Carruhlia held up a finger. "Give me a moment in the alehouse. Then come in and play along."

"Alright." Sharpe looked the horses over again. After drinking, they were all looking more lively.

Sharpe went to the door and walked in. The alehouse was the front room of a cottage with benches and tables filling the space. A door at the back must have led to the rest of the building.

Carruhlia was standing by the back door. Two halflings were sitting across from each other at a table. The other five occupants were humans. They were big, muscle bound men with long hair and beards. From their rugged clothes, they may have been farm laborers.

Carruhlia looked at him. "There's a man who looks like he might partake in some sport!"

"What sport is there in a village this size, old woman?" Sharpe sat down at the end of the table occupied by the halflings.

"You arm wrestle me for the stake of 5 gold!"

Sharpe pretty quickly got the idea of what the game was. He dug in his money bag.

"This sounds like an easy way to make 5 gold pieces!" Sharpe grinned.

Sharpe planted his elbow on the table and dropped 5 coins. Carruhlia shuffled over to sit across from him. She held her hand up and Sharpe grasped it.

"On your count of three, stranger!" Carruhlia cackled. Everyone in the room was looking at them. The halflings were whispering to each other.

"One, two, three!" Sharpe pulled at Carruhlia's hand. She gave no resistance back. Sharpe pulled her hand down to the table top.

Everyone laughed as Carruhlia cried like a professional funeral mourner. "You cheated! Again!"

"Suit yourself, grandma!" Sharpe said, holding his hand up. "You think there's cheating, you call the numbers!"

The halflings exchanged some money. This time, Sharpe could hear the laborers wagering among themselves. Again, Sharpe easily beat Carruhlia. There was more laughing and crying.

"I will take my 5 gold pieces and have some ale!" Sharpe turned to the owner. "An ale, and do you have a wash-up, my good fellow?"

"There's a bucket out back…and the outhouse. I'll bring your ale!"

A wooden bucket of water sat on a stool behind the building. Further away was a small shack made of rough wood that Sharpe assumed was the outhouse. He decided it might be a good idea to stay around for a minute, in case Carruhlia's scheme went badly. He assumed she was now taking on the muscle men at arm wrestling- and beating them. Despite her show of being old, he'd seen the Amazon break a goblin's arm nearly off.

He threw water on his face from the bucket and gulped at his ale. There was some loud talking talking inside, but no sign of a fight. Sharpe thought it might be a bad idea to be seen in town with Carruhlia after her money making scheme. He paid for the ale and went back to the horse trough.

"Horses: let's see if we can find Frazier's farm!"


	3. Elsewhere in Tal'Dorei - Part 2

Elsewhere in Tal'Dorei

Part 2

[Spoilers: Critical Role E40 onwards]

Sharpe walked through a path that led through a forest. From Krutos' description, it appeared to be the trail to the old man's farm. It was a well maintained stand of trees with very little brush on the ground. He thought he could see buildings far ahead. The three horses followed behind. They were starting to look more lively.

A large figure wearing a tan shirt appeared ambling down the path towards him. It was obviously Krutos. The big farmer would be easy to recognize in most places.

"Sharpe! What do you know?" Krutos greeted him.

"Were you waiting for me?"

Krutos pointed to the farm. "You can see the main road from the farm. I saw you coming some time ago. Your horses look worn out."

"Not my horses: I took them off three marauders," Sharpe said. Krutos looked surprised.

"Where?"

"Probably a day's walk from here. I've got news, and I want your friends to hear it, too," Sharpe resumed walking towards the farm buildings.

"There's a reason I wanted to meet you here on the path. Alinys raises wyverns and they run free on the property. They don't like strangers," Krutos said.

Sharpe stopped and looked at him. "The old lady is breeding wyverns like cattle?"

[At the farm]

Flazier's farm was a nicely laided out homestead. A wooden cottage faced visitors coming down the path. Behind it was a large barn and several smaller sheds around a flat, open yard. Chickens were clucking somewhere on the property. A cowbell occasionally rang in the distance.

Krutos led him behind the barn to an open lean-to set up as a small blacksmith's shop. A thin, wirey looking human wearing a leather apron was tending to a fire in the forge. The man looked intently at Sharpe as they approached. Flazier had a firm handshake when Krutos introduced them.

"Krutos, bring another bucket of coal," Flazier handed over a wooden pail. The big man wandered off through the sheds.

Flazier poked at the fire in the forge. "You're not from around here, Sharpe. How do you know Krutos?"

"I met him Emon when I first came to Tal'Dorei. He wanted to go out adventuring. We've stuck together for a couple years," Sharpe said.

"I've sold timber to Krutos' father. Known them all for some time."

"I never met his people."

"It's a big family," Flazier said. "Where are you from?"

"Across the sea. I've been a soldier since I was not much older than Toburd. A while back the King needed someone to take the blame for something..."

"And you were the one he picked," Flazier finished the thought.

Sharpe shrugged. "There weren't many others to pick from, and I'm not from noble blood."

"You're welcome to stay, Sharpe," Flazier said.

"I appreciate that. Is there anything I can help with around here?"

"Right now, no. Krutos and I are going to work on a project of his," Flazier started banging around in his collect of tools.

A tall woman with short, white hair came around the corner of the barn. She was wearing a rough shirt, long brown skirt, and boots. Krutos followed behind her with his bucket of coal.

"Alinys, this is Krutos' friend Sharpe!" Flazier said.

They shook hands. "How do you do, ma'am?"

"Pleased to meet you, Sharpe," Alinys smiled. "Are those your horses?"

"I wouldn't say they're mine, ma'am. I took them off some dead marauders."

Alinys was surprised. "Marauders? There hasn't been trouble around here for a long time!"

"Well, I think there may be more trouble coming. I don't know what news you get here, but I've been down around Emon," Sharpe said.

"If the news will hold, we'll hear about it at supper," Flazier suggested.

Alinys turned to go, intent on her chores. "Come help me feed the wyverns!"

"It's alright," Krutos said. "They're tame like dogs."

Alinys grabbed up a chicken from the yard and led Sharpe to a clearing in the woods.

"This is my breeding male: King Swirly!" she said, proudly.

Alinys was indicating a large, grey wyvern with a pattern of dark green all over his body. The animal was sitting on his tail with his head held high. His eyes were half closed as he was enjoying the sunlight in the clearing.

Alinys was holding the chicken by the feet. The wyvern heard the chicken sqwaking and flapping its wings. He livened up and came stomping closer. It made Sharpe uneasy, but the huge creature had so far not made any threatening moves.

Alinys handed Sharpe the chicken. "Throw him this! He likes anyone who feeds him."

Sharpe swung and threw the contrary chicken at the wyvern. The chicken bounced once and began flapped its wings. King Swirly's head snapped out and consumed his lunch in one bite.

Sharpe was astonished as the huge beast stood in front of him chomping on the bird. Feathers were flying out of King Swirly's mouth. The wyvern made a weird sound like a cough or sneeze and more feathers belched out.

"The feathers don't agree with him, but he won't eat anything that he doesn't catch live," Alinys said.

King Swirly lumbered up to Sharpe and stood his ground.

"He wants you to scratch his neck!" Alinys said.

King Swirly sat majestically with his head high, resting on his feet and tail. Sharpe reached out and scratched along the neck of the huge wyvern. King Swirly started making a deep throated, rumbling sound.

"He loves that! Watch out: sometimes he goes to sleep and falls over!"

Sharpe stayed and scratched the folds in King Swirly's long neck until the beast slowly laid out on the ground for a nap.

[Supper Time, The Farm]

The wooden cottage was built around a large hearth and chimney that heated the entire building. One side was a large kitchen and the other half divided between a bedroom and sitting room. Behind the house was a root cellar for storage, a stone water well, and a large mud brick stove.

Everyone sat around the kitchen table as Sharpe told them what he heard on his trip towards Emon. The city had been attacked by a group of dragons and mostly destroyed. A red dragon named Thordak was dominating the surrounding area and demanding tribute. Refugees who escaped the disaster were wandering the countryside looking for somewhere safe to hide.

"You met the three men a day away from here?" Flazier asked.

Sharpe nodded. "I had the feeling they were taking advantage of the situation to rob people."

"'In chaos, fools thrive'," the old man quoted.

"Did you get into the city?" Alinys asked.

"No, I started hearing news a few days south of here, and only went another half a day past that," Sharpe said.

"Let's have some wine! Toburd! Bring the wine jug!" Flazier ordered.

"Do you have anything planned tomorrow?" Krutos asked Sharpe.

"Nothing."

"I'd like you to go meet an herbalist called Goburr who lives nearby. I think he may have a small job going," Krutos said.

The dwarf boy shuffled to the table with a gallon earthenware jug. Flazier poured everyone a cup of wine.

"I saw Carruhlia in the village. She was taking money from some gullible farm boys. Does she ever visit here?" Sharpe asked.

Krutos nodded. "She brings chickens and eggs twice a week."

"Sharpe, did anyone put up a fight in Emon?" Alinys asked.

"There's a band of heroes calling themselves 'Vox Machina.' They made some resistance. Some folks say they ran like cowards and left the city to its fate. Others are saying this 'Vox Machina' is the reason the dragons came in the first place."

"I've never heard that name before," Flazier said. Krutos shook his head in denial.

"Neither have I. There is no denying that Tal'Dorei is in turmoil. Best to keep alert for trouble," Sharpe advised.

"Folks, we have some concerns to think about!" Flazier said.


	4. Elsewhere in Tal'Dorei - Part 3

Elsewhere in Tal'Dorei

Part 3

[Critical Role SPOILERS: Episode 40 onwards]

The home of the herbalist Goburr was in a pleasant forest glade. The house was a small wooden cottage with a chimney and thatched roof. Around the property were a variety of plantings. Some in clay pots, others in long wooden troughs. Simple flowering plants, vines climbing on wooden trellises, and many kinds of shrubs were represented.

Sharpe was careful to make a bit of noise as he approached. He didn't want to surprise Goburr, in case the man had powerful magic. A stout, dark haired man appeared from the cottage. He was wearing a black robe over short pants and sandals. He stood waiting for Sharpe to approach.

"Hello!" Sharpe hailed.

"How do you do?" the herbalist had deep voice, but spoke with a country drawl.

"My name is Sharpe. I come from Flazier's freehold. My friend Krutos said it was alright to visit here," Sharpe said. Up close, he could see Goburr was looking him over critically.

"I am Goburr and this is my herbarium!"

Sharpe looked at the plantings around the cottage. "You have a variety here, Goburr. That looks like mint."

Sharpe recognized a green leafy plant that was growing in clumps.

Goburr nodded happily. "Around the house are my personal spices. I make a mint jelly that is very good with roast meat. Are you a fighter?"

Goburr was pointing at Sharpe's sword.

"Sometimes. I used to be a soldier. This..." Sharpe rubbed the hilt of his sword, "...is my one possession of value. It's good protection."

"I did some fighting when I was young. Would it be an insult to ask if I could see it?" Goburr inquired.

"Of course not!" Sharpe handed his sword over by the hilt. "I know what you mean: some Tal'Dorei people are particular about strangers handling their weapon."

Goburr noticed the blade was sharp and slightly oiled. The handle was plain black leather wrapped with a fine wire. "Nicely balanced and not a lot of decoration."

"I had it made by a man who was a master swordsmith in all but name. I imagine he's received his parchment from their guild by now. As for the plainness, it's a tool of my trade. Not a piece of jewelry," Sharpe said.

Goburr handed back the sword.

"I'll show you around the gardens, Sharpe," Goburr said.

"I appreciate that. I wanted to tell you some news about Emon."

[The herb garden]

Goburr waved his hand at a row of cedar trees. "Everything in this bed needs sun in the afternoon. I planted these cedars to provide morning shade."

The herbalist had been telling Sharpe about the various plants and their uses. The great variety surprised him. Goburr must have been a significant supplier to most of the surrounding area.

"These are some of my supplies," Goburr said. There were large clay pots holding different kinds of soils and sand, piles of wood chips, and jugs lined up neatly. "These jugs have different preparations I treat the soil with or spray on the plants."

"Are you an alchemist as well, Goburr?" Sharpe asked.

"No! I just provide these materials. This is my drying shed."

Goburr pointed to a wooden shed where bundles of herbs were hanging. Next to it was a special building where the herbalist kept some of the harvest moist. A copper pan filled with water stood in the middle of the structure. Underneath the pan a candle was burning to evaporate water and keep the shed humid.

Goburr led Sharpe back towards the cottage as they continued to discuss the Chroma Conclave and the disaster in Emon.

"I had two customers stop in recently. One told me that Westruun had been attacked. A black dragon is supposed to be ruling there," Goburr said.

"It's a bad situation. I'm keeping away from big cities."

Goburr guided Sharpe inside the cottage. It was one large room with a fireplace opposite the door, an area to the right separated off by a curtain, and to the left the cooking and eating area. The herbalist poured Sharpe a cup of hot drink from a pot bubbling at the fireplace.

"I received a message from an elder archmage of a tower in Syngorn. He is very eager to have some herbs, Sharpe," Goburr said. "Krutos said he would make a delivery for me, but he recommended you instead. If you were around."

"I've got no business at the moment," Sharpe said.

"Three days east of here is a large village. It has a two-story inn and a shop that makes a nice berry wine."

Sharpe nodded. "I believe I've been there. Does it have a few stalls on the edge of town as a market place?"

"Yes! The archmage is on his way right now. If someone doesn't meet him in the village, he will try to come here. I would like to avoid that. He travels with a large party. I fear for my safety if he's seen here," Goburr said.

"That's a wise precaution," Sharpe agreed.

Goburr looked at Sharpe intently. "Would it be an imposition if you were to leave tomorrow?"

Sharpe shrugged. "I can start right now if it's fine with you. If anyone knows of this transaction, wasting time could mean more trouble along the way."

"Perfect! It's not a large package, but very important," Goburr emphasized.

The herbalist went to a wooden chest and pulled out a carved cylinder over a foot high and six inches round. A string with a simple green crystal attached dangled from one end. Goburr pulled on the string and the lid of the container came off with a slight 'pop' sound. Inside was four smaller round boxes.

"That won't be hard to carry," Sharpe said.

"You didn't ask what's in the boxes, Sharpe," Goburr said.

Sharpe shook his head. "I don't want to know. If I know, someone may make magic to read my thoughts."

Goburr grinned and returned to his chest. He came back with a cask the size of a quarter gallon and dropped it on the table.

"I want you to take this for your trouble," Goburr said. He pulled off the lid and inside the cask was filled to the top with copper coins.

"There has to be ten gold worth of coins in there, Goburr. I'd ask for half that to do a job like this," Sharpe said.

"It's a problem for me to take copper to a money changer in the market town. You're helping me by taking it all off my hands," Goburr said.

Sharpe opened his haversack and stuffed the package and his cask of coins inside. The package weighted almost nothing. On the other hand, the cask of copper coins must have measured twenty pounds. Still, he had carried much heavier loads when he was soldiering.

"I appreciate this, Sharpe!" Goburr said.

Sharpe slung his haversack onto his back. "I don't think this will be any problem. How will I recognize this archmage?"

"He's very old, elven, and mention I sent you," Goburr said. "May fortune bless you ten fold on your journey!"

Sharpe appreciated the sentiment, but thought it an odd phrase. Perhaps it was some traditional saying for people going on a journey. He thought about it a bit to keep his mind on the walk ahead, but by the time the sun started to go down, it ceased to be a topic that amused him. Sharpe did not tell Goburr that he knew a farmer's trail that would cut a day off the trip. What the herbalist didn't know, he couldn't tell anyone looking to intercept the package.

He was making good time along the simple dirt path when he decided to stop for the night. It was not wise to make camp and start a fire that might attract beasts. He would simply lay out a piece of burlap cloth on the ground and sleep with his back against a tree trunk. He chewed on a couple hunks of dried meat as the sun set. He thought he might just make his destination by tomorrow evening.

[On The Trail]

Sharpe estimated it was mid-afternoon by the height of the sun. He was in an area of sparse grassland. The old farmer's trail was still clear ahead of him. That morning he had risen at daybreak, eaten some more dried meat, and consumed water before starting. At a fast walk with few breaks, he thought he was getting close to his destination.

Ahead on the grassland a mound of earth came into view. He recognized it as the hill outside the village. He became a little uneasy at seeing two figures on horseback silhoutted against the blue sky. He started to make out more details upon getting closer. They were two blonde elven women wearing golden armor detailed in blue. Over their shoulders were blue capes and they both carried elven bows.

Sharpe detoured around the base of the hill, the elven women watching him intently the entire time. In front of him appeared the village. Four more elves on horseback and dressed like the two women stood on the road. Two of them were watching the road and the other two looked at him.

In front of the inn was an ornately carved coach pulled by four horses. Attending to the coach were two more armored elves. Sharpe looked past the coach and saw four more mounted elves on the other side of the town. At the hitching post to the side of the inn were eight horses, all with blue saddle blankets under elaborate gold decorated saddles.

"Hello," Sharpe greeted a single armored elf guarding the door to the inn.

The elf looked him up and down coldly. He knocked on the door and opened it. Inside was another armored elf who stepped aside to let Sharpe pass. He heard the door close behind him as his eyes adjusted to the light in the room.

Some ashes were smouldering in the stone fireplace to his right. In a semi circle in front of it were stools and chairs, but no one was sitting there. A variety of tables and chairs filled the rest of the floor space. To his left was a staircase he knew led to guest rooms upstairs. At the back of the great room was a wooden bar, a door to the outside, and a door which led to a kitchen.

At one of the tables sat the serene figure of an old elf with long, white hair. He was dressed a white robe of fine material- maybe silk. Over his shoulders hung a blue velvet cloak. Behind him stood two younger elves in white robes and two more armored warriors. The bartender couldn't have cared less about Sharpe, but the elves all stared at him. Except the old archmage. His eyes were completely white with cataracts.

Sharpe stood in front of the old elf. "Hello, sir."

"Good day to you," the archmage's voice was low and placid.

"I am Sharpe. I have a package from Goburr," Sharpe said.

"I am Seakas of Syngorn."

Sharpe pulled off his haversack, slowly. He sat it in full view of the archmage and his entourage as he opened it and brought out the wooden cylinder. The two young elves in white looked at it as Sharpe placed it gently on the table in front of the old archmage.

The old elf's wrinkled hands appeared from under the table. He ran his hands over the package, then touched the green crystal dangling from the lid. It glowed with an orange light, briefly, then darkened again.

Seakas handed the package to his apprentices. They took it and walked toward the stairs.

"And you..." Seakas pointed to one of the armored warriors. The armored elf clanked along after them.

"Can I get you something, Mister?" the innkeeper asked.

"Yes! An ale and some food," Sharpe said.

He was feeling tired from the fast pace and the stress of his journey. On road he was always thinking about the terrain, monsters, and the possibility of an ambush. It was a strain, but thinking ahead and being prepared had kept him alive for a long time.

As the innkeeper returned with an ale, Sharpe dug into his haversack for the cask of copper coins. He pulled off the lid to grab a few for the innkeeper. What met his eyes was not copper, but silver. He dug around in the top of the cask and found nothing but silver. Sharpe grabbed a coin and handed it over.

"Change, or shall I bring you another?" the innkeeper asked.

"Another."

"Is something troubling you, Sharpe?" Seakas was leaning forward in his seat.

"When I left Goburr, this cask was full of copper coins. Now it's all silver!"

"Did Goburr say anything to you?" Seakas asked.

"He wished I would be blessed ten fold."

Seakas grinned and nodded. One of the apprentices came back down the stairs and whispered into the archmage's ear. He smiled even wider.

"Young man, this was an important errand. You brought this package safely and quickly. It will be of use in the cause against the Chroma Conclave. I, too, feel you should be blessed ten fold." the archmage waved his right hand. Sharpe's money cask glowed purple for a moment. Inside, he could see the top layer of coins were all gold.

"Mister, I thought I was well paid when I had copper. Thank you for this, but I feel bad taking all this money," Sharpe said.

"Do not! The value of your service is well worth what you have," Seakas said.


End file.
